sicko

when you’re stuck at home, ill and PMSing, what do you do?

you try not to kill yourself by being bored.

you blog.

yes, even if typing has become too damn tiring.

and merely looking at the screen makes you dizzy as hell.

writing is therapeutic, they say.

and i would have agreed to that if only i’m not seeing blues and greens and reds while jotting down my thoughts!

girl’s down with vertigo.  my hemoglobin level’s low too.

so it feels like i’m waltzing on uneven ground.

whne i’m lying in bed and i suddenly stand, the whole room spins!

when i stoop down to get something, i lose my balance.

it’s like i’ve had twenty gallons of cuervo and a pound of crack!

i’m floating!

and just as i am typing this very sentence, my head’s starting to spin again…

subliminal desires

gem couldn’t put it more aptly.

and since i couldn’t think of anything to justify it or at least label it–i agree, that must have been the universe’s way of telling me that i do have pent up feelings and uh, subliminal desires…hence, that steamy, forbidden dream…

scene:  a bunch of high school batchmates along with the sophies and a couple of guy friends attended a wedding.

i dunno who the bride and groom were.  but i vividly recall having mimay, lei, gem, mommy, bevs, florence, tina and benedick there.  bench was the host.  and uhm, ‘rum’ was there too.

garter toss.  someone caught it–tall, skinny guy.

bouquet toss.  i got hold of that thingy.

then rum snared the garter from that tall, skinny guy.

roars of laughter.

bench said rum and i must kiss–the way the bride and groom would.

so we did.

gosh!

the kiss went on forever!

then he whispered to me, ‘you want to go on?’

of course i answered in the affirmative.

and we hied off to some place–his brother’s pad, he said.

and we did it.

i woke up feeling spent.

if you know what i mean.

it was nothing like my chiz experience.

it was…so vivid, so real.

i pray to high heavens ‘rum’ doesn’t know who ‘rum’ is.

and i do hope he doesn’t read my blog.

shoot me.

now i know

-you can get by life with bad manners but it’s easier with good.

-i have pretty much bluffed my way thru life–i need to start getting serious.

-maturity is when you become more accepting of stupidity and less forgiving of mediocrity–i’m still immature.

tit for tat

i can be evil sometimes.

and last night, i unveiled my horns and tail once more.

well, she deserved it.

i’ve been trying my best not to hate her.

actually, i’ve been forcing myself to at least like her.

but i couldn’t.

on the outside, what is there not to like about her?

she comes across as little misis sugar and spice and everything nice.

unlike me, she looks as though she couldn’t even hurt a fly.

unlike me, she’s all prim and proper.

but she doesn’t have a heart.

she doesn’t have a heart that cares for people i care deeply about.

for people who took her as their own.

for people who’ve gone through great lengths just to please her and make her feel welcome.

sure, she doesn’t spin and spew webs of lies about them.

sure, she doesn’t disrespect them in the open.

sure, she doesn’t ‘maltreat’ them.

but her INDIFFERENCE stings them badly.

and that’s what makes me seethe this way.

sadly though, i have no means of getting even because to the world outside, i’m the sinner and she’s the saint.

she ably disguises her wickedness with her saccharine smiles.

but if you’ve known me well enough–you’d know just how bitchy, bratty me operate.

go sting them, i sting you back.

i’m so fond of this little thing called getting even.

discreetly.

so last night, i struck her when she was at her weakest.

the rain was my accomplice.

the phone was my ally.

so without her knowing it, she got a dose of her own medicine.

little by little, i’ll make her realize her mistakes.

i’ll give her a taste of how it is to be ignored.

how it is to be treated like a stranger in one’s own family.

sweet, sweet, revenge.

the big K

i’ve always had a thing for guys who go the extra mile to make me feel special.

when i was still habi-less, i get kilig over the littlest gestures–opening the car door for me, having me get off the lift first, holding my umbrella…acts of chivalry send chills down my spine.

when i had habi i appreciated this stuff more–because he hardly does those things to me!

alright–long nonsense intro cut short–i’m in kilig mode because somebody did something nobody has done to me in a long time.

too bad i couldn’t go into details because that somebody reads this blog and i don’t want to risk having him read about how kilig i got when he said that he…

never mind

you–out there–you just made my day.

and i love you for it.

there goes the clue.

haha.

wet for wentworth

sorry for the title.  but since i’m confident that there are only about 5 people reading this blog and none of them is below 18, then there’s no cause for worry.

it’s sean chambers all over again–but this time i’m not 16 and wentworth miller doesn’t even know i exist.

sigh.

initially, i fell in love with his character on prison break–michael scofield.  why not–i mean, scofield is a panty creamer.  he has killer eyes.  when he talks i feel like sara trancedi on morphine.  and oh–he was a structural engineer.  and he didn’t bang veronica out of respect for linc. and…countless reasons there are…

when i began posting pics of went on my profile iggy was up in arms and commented–’mel, he’s gay!’

so?

why the hell would i care?  i’m in love with a fictitious character.

then it hit me.

take away michael scofield and i would still find myself stalking wentworth earl miller III.

WENT is the real thing.  he’s the panty creamer, not scofield.

and if he’s gay–well, i don’t give a damn.

why am i nuts about went?

well, for one he reminds me so much of WENWEN.

same killer eyes–only went’s are green and wen’s are brown.

went plays a structural engineer, wen’s an architect.

THEY HAVE THE SAME VOICE.

everytime went delivers his lines, i hear wenwen’s voice.

argh.

but apart from the glaring similarities between wenty and my erstwhile miel, i found myself not only ogling at mr. miller and wishing i could bed him…i actually found myself infatuated because apparently, the guy has something in between his ears!

he’s more than just a pretty face.

he was born to educator parents and has two lawyer sisters.

and my went boy has a degree–a princeton one at that.

he got himself a literature degree in ‘95.

that just blew me away.

that explains the eloquence, the schoolboy charm, the air of being educated…

double argh.

and he sings!

he was part of the princeton tigertones and i wish i knew how to upload the video i unearthed from youtube…

i am in lust with this guy.

hell no, i’m in love.

like i said, it’s sean chambers all over again.

only this time i couldn’t fly to dallas where he’s filming to stalk him.

i couldn’t get his number.

i couldn’t talk to him.

he couldn’t introduce me to his mom.

i couldn’t go to his pad.

ah, pathetic me!

dmmit, wenty!  why are you so hot?

baby talk

i hate it.

of course, i’d like to have a diego.

and a sadie.

but not right now.

maybe in a year or two.

habi and i–we’re in no hurry.

so please stop telling me i’m getting older.

i am well aware of that.

if my biological clock is ticking, don’t you think i know it myself?

if you think i’ll have a hard time getting pregnant once i hit the big three and zero, don’t you think i should be wary of that myself?

i have friends past thirty.

i have friends who are still unmarried past thirty.

i have friends who haven’t had a child past thirty.

i have friends who have gone through difficult pregnancies because apparently, they’re spring chickens  no more.

i know and i understand the whole high-risk thing–duyen, my nephew, was quick to point that out last night.

but lemme make this clear–when i say i’m not ready to have a child yet, that means i’m fucking not ready yet to be a mommy!

sure, i picture myself sporting a legitimate baby bump–one that i could proudly display–not the one i have now–not the remnants of evil rice and its meaty, savory minions!

sure, i would love to have an excuse to wear flats even if i absolutely abhor walking in them!

sure, i’d love to finally go to the ultrasound room because i am pregnant and i want to know the gender of the tiny being inside me and NOT because i haven’t passed stool for days!

if i had wanted a child so badly i would have conceived long ago!

so please quit the crap and stop pressuring me to spew out tiny brats and bitches.

it’ll never be too late for that–at least not in one or two years time.

now, let’s say fate toys with the idea of not giving me the power to conceive–how would i feel?

sad, yes.

but it wouldn’t stop me from breathing and enjoying my life.

having a child is a choice.

i’ve said that a hundred times.

right now, i CHOOSE NOT TO HAVE one yet.

it the Boss gets a little playful and sends one my way right now, i’d be thankful.

but it’s not a priority right now.

and i don’t care if i’m already getting older.

or if not having one right now would eventually backfire on me in the future.

in time, i’ll have one.

or two. or three.

or maybe none.

depending on the Boss.

so please stop bugging me about it.

futile

i texted wenwen last night.

he didn’t reply.

i dunno what’s up with him.

i just hope he isn’t sick again.

there are people you don’t stop caring for…

***

still haven’t gotten a call from THEM.

i figured, they just didn’t like me.

perhaps i’m really not cut out for that.

gotcha!

dear you,

so, what happened?

you couldn’t help but check out my profile?

or were you drawn by what you saw on the picture?

isn’t wenty some sort of a deadringer for the man whose pictures were STOLEN by your supposed bf?

but don’t worry, the man on my pictures is definitely wentworth miller, not ‘the the man whose pictures were STOLEN by your supposed bf.

it’s alright.  you can view my profile all you want.

i don’t care.

wenwen doesn’t care about what you and dave did anyway.

and to give you a hearty laugh about it–he even hated my guts for exposing your and dave’s little thievery.

go on, why not add me up as a friend so you can have full access to my profile and yes, to my blog.

who knows, i can even be your friend.

and i’m not even being sarcastic.

-me

consuelo de bobo

i’ve been hearing this term from older people a lot.

now i know exactly what it means and i despise how some people seem oblivious to it.

i know and i understand that some people can really be insensitive.  that some can be downright inconsiderate.

but NOT when you’re ‘FAMILY’.

***

when you marry someone, you don’t get married to your partner alone–you marry INTO the family.

you get to be a part of that family.

so you learn not just to get along well with them, you actually start to love them–warts and all.

nanay and daddy are very fortunate to have in-laws who love them back. 

when daddy got sick, ate carol would visit him and even watch over him on days when we need to attend to matters at home and at work.

ate lolit would drop by the hospital from work, take her kids there to see him and bring food not for daddy alone but for everyone.

it’s not just out of consuelo de bobo–it was because they love him.

they care for him.

because they married his sons.

because they’re family.

***

since ate lolit and the kids live with us, nanay had a huge hand in raising chingan and ningkoi.

when they were babies, they were left to the care of nanay everyday of the working week because their mom needed to be at work.

whenever she would arrive at night, she’d bring nanay ‘pasalubongs’ as a token of appreciation. 

she would give both nanay and daddy presents on their birthdays and on other special occasions.

these were ways of showing just how grateful she is to them not only for taking care of her kids but for being wonderful parents to her.

yes, nanay and daddy were never just in-laws to ate carol and ate lolit–they were parents to them in the truest sense of the word.

and in return, both my ates-in-law treat them as such as well–parents.

ate carol and ate lolit never act as though they’re just ‘visitors’ in our home. 

they regard all of us as family.

when one is troubled, they show concern.

when one is in need, they lend support.

we share more than just a roof above our heads…

we share laughter, we share tears, we share loses and gains, we share triumphs and defeats…

we share everything.

because WE are family.

***

i know and again, i understand, that people are different.

another man’s meat could be another man’s poison.

what sits well with tom, repulses jerry.

but whetever happened to being adaptable?

to being considerate?

to being able to appreciate?

my two cents worth is this:  ever heard of the golden rule?

if people treat you nicely, would it hurt to reciprocate with kindness?

if people show concern, would it hurt to care for them in return?

especially when they’re family?

***

i know–my post is pretty incoherent.

i couldn’t make it as coherent as i hoped to because i don’t want to create friction again.

and i’m not even writing this for them to read.

i just need to let it out.